


Communion

by karnacan



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: ?? - Freeform, F/F, Group Sex, Mild Gore, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 12:51:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14449644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karnacan/pseuds/karnacan
Summary: "Your sword can't still my heart"An entire coven waiting at your feet, eager to worship & spill your blood.An idea from late at night-





	Communion

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by that bit in the dlc where Delilah pushed Daud's sword further into herself, and when she removes Corvo's with ease in the cutscene at the start of the second game. If this gets enough love, perhaps I'll write something to add on since I've other ideas swirling in my head. Apologies in advance for the length, or lack thereof. This is a genre I'm not used to writing and would like to ease into it. Enjoy : )
> 
> -W

Perpetual movements, and fog on the glass they created from their intensity. Delilah’s mind went everywhere. 

She glanced down at the fervid witch, working between her legs. “By the void..” her breath hitched. Breathing incantations as their lips brushed down from Delilah’s collarbone, each kiss and lick charging her farther. Delilah’s grip on her hair tightened. Her moans, husky and loud, became recurrent. She reached out near her, gripped her knife, and placed it in the woman’s free hand. So close; she brought the witches hand holding the knife up to her throat. Back arching, and the witch curving her fingers inside her and moving swiftly. She could barely mutter, “..N…now” she spoke with a growl. Sliding over the bones in her throat, the knife sliced and Delilah felt like she plummeted from a mountain as she came. She could hear the void sweetly sing as her body contorted back. Communion. The liquid void would spill from the cut. Pooling; black.

The witch went to wipe her mouth, accidentally creating a small smear of Delilah’s blood across her cheek. Still splayed out on the floor, breathing heavily, Delilah brought a hand up and made a go away now motion with her hand and the witch would promptly leave.

 

You’d see the fresh cuts for a number of days in a row as the white scars would slowly heal. Then disappear completely. Those became the pride of the witches,

and almost like a canvas, they would paint for Delilah.

“Did you catch a sight of that long scar today on Delilahs back? That's mine!”, they would hiss. As if to claim their property.

And the designer of a specific scar would hope it to take longer to heal than others; to prove superiority. To prove their favor to Delilah.

 

Sometimes Delilah would return back, clearly displeased, and briskly paced back to her chambers whilst calling out “I need five of you.” After a brief argument from the witches, the five would heed their call. During those times, Delilah needed to be thrown into ecstasy, to have her mind lose count of every pair of lips on her. All of her limbs pinned down, she was crucified. And gave vulnerability willingly. These occultists were so eager to please, Delilah got aroused just thinking about her sheer power over them all.

 

Almost every time, she brought out her ritual knife and studied the women’s faces as she handed it to them. “ _Spill me._ ”

 


End file.
